Monday, December 1, 2008
Today, I was actually forced by a ateacher to say the school prayer at assembly. Like, the whole school says the school prayer before the whole assembly starts, and I am in no way religious, and feel no need to say "In the name of Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen." at any point of my life, so I didn't say the school prayer.
Just before the second last line, a teacher noticed I wasn't saying it and made urgent gestures at me to start saying it, and threatened to punish me if I didn't. Well, EXCUSE ME but I am not freaking conforming you your pathetic little Anglican ways.
I don't mind religion, if religious people just keep to themselves about it. Forcing a religion upon someone is just wrong! It's like forcing someone not to wear glasses even if they can't see without them.
What a stupid teacher. I mean, he was forcing me to ask some imaginary person up in the clouds to bless my school. WTF? I don't particularly want my school to be blessed, I mean, what does blessing a school even do?? And what does "Amen" mean? It's just a random nonsensical word!
Eurgh, my school sucks.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Reihaag Yakatungtargoobydoolaadimsimteetoo was an ordinary boy, with an extraordinary name. Many people fainted at the sight of his name, his last name particularly. This little quirk of his meant that Reihaag had no friends indeed. Well he had one friend, the only person in
And another one....
This is a story. It has a moral meaning and it is an insight into somebody’s life. (quote from my friend's English teacher)
Sarah was a girl. She had more than a million hairs on her head, this was quite an achievement. Her hair was in fact blonde, and it got in the way while she was doing her wood carving. Sometimes she’d carve her hair instead, which made her angry and punch somebody. Sometimes herself. Sarah got sent home from school for violent behaviour during wood carving lessons on a regular basis. Sarah also had blue eyes. Somebody once told her that they looked like sapphires but they were immediately put into a mental institute. Sarah was sick of her blue eyes and blonde hair so she dyed her hair black and got some purple contacts.
But this story isn’t about Sarah, it’s about her duck’s friend’s sister’s owner’s son. Called Brian. Brian was 14 and rather brilliant at soccer. He was the best player of the season for 3 consecutive years. Actually this was not true, but Brian liked to use it as a pick up line. Brian was really awful at soccer and didn’t like it anyway. He preferred cake decorating. He was the only boy in his entire school that took cake decorating as a class. Actually he was the only person in the school that took it. No one was actually sure if this course existed. It seemed like cake decorating existed, as Brian always came out of his “class” with a beautifully decorated cake, but it was suspected that he just made them at home and brought them to school to look cool. This was a very stupid thing to do, and even Brian thought this, but he was so addicted to decorating cakes that he just continued doing it.
Brian’s best friend’s name was The Egg. The Egg was a small boy with brown hair who loved to play on the swings at lunchtime. The Egg was happy all the time and got on with everyone, but he chose to hang out with Brian because he felt sorry for him.
The Egg got his nickname when he was in Year 1. He was new to the class and the teacher was introducing him to the class.
“Tell everyone your name. Go on, they won’t bite.” Said the annoying teacher of little mind power.
“Hello everybody! My name is…”
At this point, The Egg got distracted by two adolescent boys egging the principles car.
“THE EGG!” said The Egg.
The class was thrilled at this new development, as they had never heard such an interesting name. No one knew The Egg’s real name.
Anyway, Brian and The Egg had a wonderful time every lunch, swinging on the swings, sliding on the slides and hanging upside down on the balcony wall (it was never discovered how they did this). Brian was never bullied because he had such a cool friend. He lived for 10 years more before being hit by a bus while standing on his head in the middle of a freeway. THE END.
One bleak, dreary morning, a girl called Matthew went for a ride on her tricycle. She rode down her street, past the milkman on his way to work (he was an engineer), past the evil letterbox that ate and swallowed everyone’s letters before regurgitating them and sending them to the person they were sent to, past Mrs Ladylamp, washing her clothes with her cat, and finally stopped at the multicoloured pedestrian crossing lights (which were very changeable and red only meant stop on Tuesdays). Today the lights were pink, meaning that Matthew should stop, do a U-turn and go home. So she did. THE END.
Hope you had fun. Thanks for bearing with this! (that made little sense)
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Japanese bands have such random names. The Brilliant Green, Budo Grape, Berry Roll are some of the less weird ones. Most of them try to use English words in their names to sound cool, but cannot translate them properly and their name just FAILS.
But it's not only Japanese music that I like. I think I am just obsessed with Japan. I am amused by the way lots of Japanese girls talk through their nose without sounding completely retarded, and how they wear mini skirts in the middle of winter, somehow, without freezing to death.
And also how many Starbucks they have in every street, I don't even think they have any other type of coffee shop.
And I love all the strange little shops with clothes and stationary that have failed English translation written on them.
And I love how safe and clean everyone tries to be in Japan, with their little indoor slippers and face masks when they get a cold.
And Japan has such beautiful gardens, with koi and funny little trees and ponds everywhere. And the cherry blossoms, they are lovely.
The Japanese language is so different to English. It makes so much more sense than English though. I wish I could speak Japanese...
Yes. I love Japan. The End.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
The air was thick, the ground was shaking...Ok not really, but the ground sort of shook when my friend ran down the stairs. Anyway, she ran down the stair and announced:
"Come look! A pick and grey galah is stuck on the roof! Some randoms are throwing stuff at it!"
We all decided that we must take a look at this exciting specimen and possibly stop those people throwing stuff. So we went upstairs and looked on the roof.
"Aww...It's a baby!" squealed some random girl.
So then a group of girls decided that they must make it fly by throwing food at it. So someone went and got the gardener.
"I must end this terrible happening!" exclaimed the gardener (BTW, I am exaggerating a little...Just a little).
So bravely, the gardener climbed onto the roof and walked along the gutter, towards the poor little bird.
The bird tried to run away, up the apex of the roof. It edged its way up the steep roof in a desperate attempt to get away.
But then, a calamity struck! The bird had gotten to the steepest bit of the roof, and then it fell. It slid down the steep roof like a giant slide. It gained speed and fell directly into the gardener's hands.
The crowd that had now gathered applauded loudly (This actually DID happen). Some people were even crying (This happened too! XD). The gardener was deemed a hero.
The day continued and reenactments of this event too place, the whole school probably knew about it by recess.
And that, my friends, is what happened at school this morning. :D
Hope you enjoyed!
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Weekends are screwed up.
Maybe I shall get a job to whittle my weekends away.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
This is a house torn apart by nuclear war.
This is a drawing based on my eye.
This is my dog.
There you go. BTW I won a camera! I am so excited! I'm taking billions of photos. :D
Lovely day everyone,
Monday, October 27, 2008
Sometimes I wonder whether our teacher actually knows whats going on at any time, but he doesn't seem to notice anything. Maybe he's lost that part of his brain that determines authority, because he is absolutely crap at it. Maybe someone should tell him. Maybe not. I like him this way, it means we don't have to do work. Oh well, one day he'll retire and then I'll have a teacher who actually makes you do the word processing tasks. If that day ever comes, I won't be doing word processing anymore. So it won't matter in the slightest.
Have you ever played Mavis Beacon Typing? Well if you haven't, you should, because of it's highly informative and educational factors, and plus it's so exceedingly fun that you get addicted to it. Seriously, not. Spare yourself I beg you.
Anyway, my fellow classmate is reading over my shoulder so I will end this post now.